


At The End Of The Day

by Blackbird Song (Blackbird_Song)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 21:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_Song/pseuds/Blackbird%20Song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto start getting together on a slightly more regular basis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At The End Of The Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Domesticity challenge in [](http://syndicated.livejournal.com/flashfic_hub/profile)[**flashfic_hub**](http://syndicated.livejournal.com/flashfic_hub/).
> 
> Many thanks to my husband for the beta.

  
  
  
  


The first time followed a long, hard day. Tosh had dodged a very persistent bullet for ten minutes until she'd finally found a tree thick enough to bury it permanently, Gwen had finally given up on trying to reason with a Hoix, only to be dragged off the Quay and into the bay as it fell, clutching at her jacket, and Jack ... well, best not think about just how bad that wound had looked, or how quickly it had seemed to heal. Owen had managed to stanch Jack's gut wound, tend Tosh's sprained ankle before he'd been called out to help dredge up the Hoix, treat Gwen for everything that tended to happen to a person when they nearly drowned, and help retcon sixty-two schoolchildren and their minders who'd been studying the very copse into which Tosh had fled. Of the various questions that Ianto had heard during his tenure at Torchwood, "Why is that smart bullet following the pretty lady instead of Mister Parkinson?" was at once the funniest and most chilling.

At the end of the day, when he'd cleaned up the bloody bandages strewn about the medical bay and the mud tracks everyone had tracked through their base on the rainiest day Cardiff had seen in ... even he hadn't kept track, Ianto Jones walked into Jack's office at the appointed time, nervous as hell, to find a fully revived Captain gazing at him through bedroom eyes and a dimness that he could have sworn was hazy. Must have been the Glenn Miller album that was playing. He hadn't been expecting that. It was far too retro and romantic for the moment, but he'd take it. There was something twee and comforting about it that fit Jack in a way that Ianto didn't want to examine too closely. When Jack smiled and held out his arms, Ianto trembled as he walked into them.

"I've never done this before," said Ianto. "You know, er, with a man...."

"Relax," said Jack, kissing Ianto's forehead. "It'll be fun."

"I know," said Ianto, his heart thudding in his chest.

It was awkward and probably the most embarrassing experience of Ianto's life, but Jack was a much more patient teacher than he'd seemed at work, and when it was all over, they fell asleep together in a happily exhausted, sated state that Ianto put down to a soppy sentimentality that made him feel a bit sick.

*****

The second time, Ianto had been looking forward to nothing more than a quick meal and a good night's sleep, but Jack was restless and upset. Jack looked sharply at him as they met that night, as though their assignation was a hindrance rather than a pleasant end to a long day.

Ianto swallowed. "We ... don't have to do this. I could just go...." He gestured towards the door and started to back out.

Jack blinked and something seemed to shift. "No, let's go ahead." Jack took Ianto's wrist and pulled him close, rough and heated, and looked him straight in the eye in a way that unnerved and, if Ianto were honest, terrified him. "Are you ready for this?" Jack growled.

"Yes," lied Ianto. He'd never felt so awkward in his life.

He didn't stay afterwards.

*****

The third time, Jack came to find Ianto. "I'm sorry about last night," he whispered, slipping his arms around Ianto's waist from behind, as Ianto finished reassembling the coffee machine.

"It's alright," said Ianto, wiping his hands on the tea towel.

"No, really," said Jack, his voice a bit rougher than usual as he withdrew enough to squeeze Ianto's shoulder. "I really am sorry."

"You had other things on your mind," said Ianto, trying to keep his own voice steady as he squeezed the hand on his shoulder.

And then he felt Jack's forehead against the back of his skull. "Join me tonight?"

Ianto squeezed Jack's hand harder, pulling it down over his shoulder and leaning back so he could kiss Jack's cheek. "Alright."

Jack turned to meet Ianto's mouth, stroking Ianto's throat as they kissed until Tosh and Owen returned through the cog door, swearing as the containment unit they were carrying tried to jump out of their joint grip.

"Same time as usual, then," suggested Ianto in as businesslike a way as he could manage.

"Yes," said Jack, in kind. Then, "Thank you," he murmured.

Ianto stayed afterwards, that night.

*****

The eleventh time was at Gwen's wedding. It hadn't been at all the way Ianto had imagined it over the past fortnight. For one thing, his partner had been all wrong, and for another, there was a little too much of their unfortunate second time interfering with the moment, but he'd at least managed to avert disaster and embarrassment, and had kept Gwen and Rhys together. And then there was the issue of cleanup and retcon that both put a damper on things and certified the wedding as an absolute success. Weddings that were too happy or neat nearly always ended in divorce in the blissfully ignorant 'real' world, and were an astonishingly accurate indicator of imminent death when Torchwood were involved. He was quite sure that Gwen and Rhys were going to be blissfully happy, regardless of Jack's brooding.

So, after successfully distracting one very moody but mostly well-behaved Captain Jack Harkness in the hopes of supporting said Captain through saying a painful and permanent goodbye, a rather lonely wedding fairy found himself spending the night in his little-used flat, contemplating lost loves and the value of resignation to one's fate. He was going to miss dancing with Jack nearly every night.

At that thought, he shook the empty bottle of retcon, just in case he'd been mistaken about having used it all up on the wedding guests.

*****

Ianto couldn't decide whether to jump out of his skin or cry with relief when he felt the unmistakable weight of Jack's hand warming his shoulder.

"Join me in my office?"

"Of course," said Ianto, before he could gather any dignity. "Er ... when?"

"How about now?" murmured Jack, rubbing Ianto's shoulder in the way that had always acted as balm between them.

Ianto turned to follow Jack, but Jack's hand and eyes forestalled him with a question. "Yes, Jack."

Jack relaxed and smiled, and Ianto led the way to the office, frowning at the quiet in the Hub. "What time is it?"

"Half past seven," said Jack.

Ianto blinked.

"Your sleep cycle's off," said Jack, draping an arm over Ianto's shoulders. "But I bet I know something that'll help." He pushed open the door and punched a button on his wrist strap.

"Glenn Miller, again," said Ianto, shifting a little, though he wasn't sure if his discomfort was due more to the soppiness of the music or the reminder of his first dancing lesson in this room a fortnight ago.

"Do you mind?" asked Jack, softly.

"Well, it's better than 'In the Mood', I suppose," said Ianto. "Don't think I could manage a swing tonight." He leaned against Jack as he felt himself being taken into the dance position.

"'Moonlight Serenade'," said Jack against Ianto's ear. "Always been one of my favourites."

"Mine, too," said Ianto, "though I never knew what it was called, I'll kill you if you tell anyone, and I'll probably retcon myself after tonight."

"What, and miss this bit of domestic bliss every night?" Jack held Ianto a little tighter, belying his light tone.

Ianto resolutely did not pull back. "You want to keep doing this?"

"Well ... yeah! I thought you liked it, too. Didn't you?"

"Maybe," said Ianto, pressing a little closer to Jack and failing to hate himself for it. "When I wasn't thinking of having two left feet or getting Banana Boat out of quarantine."

Jack laughed quietly against Ianto's cheek. "You're a good dancer, Ianto. And let's never talk about Banana Boat again."

Ianto chuckled and did pull back, then, just enough to look at Jack. "You okay?"

Jack looked into Ianto's eyes. "Yeah."

Ianto blinked and pressed himself once more against Jack, losing himself in the dance. "You're welcome."

  
**Current mood:**   
|   
mellow  
---|---


End file.
